Summary: Fourteen-year-old Y/N Luca is navigating the chaos of high school, from moody mornings to first crushes, all while trying not to tell her overprotective SWAT dad. But when her uncle Jim notices her mood swings, she reluctantly opens up about her feelings—just in time for Luca to realize he’s a little jealous of the bond they share. 💘💔
Thank you, Anon, for the request! It is the continuation of "Uncle Jim, Daddy, and a Tiny Wedding Plan."
Fourteen-year-old Y/N Luca no longer owned a sparkly tutu.
She did, however, own seventeen hoodies, exactly zero patience, and a deeply rooted belief that high school was a personal attack.
Luca knew something was wrong the moment she came home, dropped her backpack like it had personally betrayed her, and muttered, “I hate everyone.”
He paused mid-coffee sip. “…Rough day?”
“School,” she said flatly, already heading for her room.
“Okay,” Luca called after her, careful. “Wanna talk about it?”
“No.”
The door shut—not slammed, but closed with intention. The most dangerous kind.
Luca sighed and glanced over at Jim Street, who was leaning against the counter, arms crossed, watching the whole thing unfold with a knowing look.
“She used to marry me when she was mad,” Street said. “Now she just ignores you.”
Luca scowled. “This is your fault. You encouraged her.”
“I gave her juice during a medical emergency,” Street shot back. “If anything, I’m a hero.”
Y/N emerged ten minutes later in different clothes—bigger hoodie, hair pulled back, face locked in the universal expression of don’t talk to me. She grabbed a snack from the fridge, checked her Dexcom out of habit, and headed for the couch.
Luca tried again. “You good, kid?”
She shrugged. “I’m fine.”
Street winced. “Oof. That’s a ‘she’s not fine’ fine.”
Y/N glared. “Can you not narrate my emotions, Uncle Jim?”
Luca blinked. “Wait—you’ll talk to him?”
Street grinned. “I have a face people trust.”
“You have a face people punch,” Luca muttered.
✖️✖️✖️✖️
Later that night, Luca retreated to the garage to tinker with something that absolutely did not need fixing. Street found Y/N on the back steps, knees pulled up, phone abandoned beside her.
“Hey,” he said gently, sitting down. “You haven’t glared at me yet. That’s progress.”
She huffed. “Give it time.”
They sat in silence for a moment before she spoke again. “High school is stupid.”
Street nodded immediately. “Correct.”
“And people are stupid.”
“Also correct.”
“And boys—” she stopped herself, groaning and dropping her head back against the step. “Ugh. Never mind.”
Street perked up. “Ah. There it is.”
She looked at him suspiciously. “You’re not gonna tell my dad.”
He made a zipping motion over his mouth. “Street code.”
“You just made that up.”
“Still binding.”
She sighed, staring at the yard. “There’s this guy. And he’s not even that great, which makes it worse. He smiled at me and now my brain doesn’t work.”
Street fought a smile. “Classic.”
“And my dad would absolutely lose his mind.”
Street laughed softly. “Yeah… he would.”
She frowned. “Why are you easier to talk to?”
That one caught him off guard.
“…Because I don’t feel like I have to protect you from the world,” he said carefully. “I just wanna help you figure it out.”
She nodded slowly. “That makes sense.”
From the garage, Luca chose that exact moment to walk out.
“…Figure what out?”
Street froze.
Y/N groaned. “Why is your timing criminally bad?”
Luca crossed his arms, eyes flicking between them. “You won’t talk to me, but you’ll talk to him?”
Street lifted his hands. “In my defense, she came with evidence and feelings.”
Luca scoffed. “I’m her father.”
“And I’m her uncle,” Street shot back. “Who once almost married her, apparently.”
Y/N snorted despite herself.
Luca’s shoulders relaxed just a little. “Kid. You can tell me stuff.”
She looked up at him, hesitant. “You promise not to freak out?”
“I am physically incapable of promising that,” he admitted. “But I’ll try.”
She took a breath. “I just… like someone. And it’s dumb. And school is a lot. And I didn’t wanna worry you.”
Luca softened instantly. He stepped closer, crouching in front of her like he had when she was five.
“Hey,” he said quietly. “You worrying doesn’t protect me. It just makes you carry it alone.”
Her throat tightened. She nodded, leaning into his shoulder.
Street smiled to himself, standing. “I’m gonna go—before this turns into a feelings circle.”
Luca shot him a look. “We’re not done talking.”
Street grinned. “You’re just mad she still likes me.”
Y/N smirked into Luca’s shoulder. “I mean… Uncle Jim did save my life once.”
Luca sighed. “I will never win.”
But he wrapped an arm around her anyway.
Some things changed.
Some things didn’t.
And even now—years later—when things got scary or overwhelming or a little too much…
She still knew exactly who would catch her before she got floaty.
💔(a little bit of angst) 💘 (mostly fluff and cuteness)
Summary: Luca had asked Street to babysit his 5-year old daughter Y/N during the weekend but there was a little bit of a problem in the middle of the babysitting but ended in good terms.
It was a rare weekend off for Luca. He’d finally caved and taken his girlfriend on a quiet cabin getaway—no radios, no tactical gear, no emergencies. Just trees, stars, and maybe some pancakes.
“Are you sure?” Luca asked, crouched in front of his five-year-old daughter, Y/N, who sat on the couch with a stuffed bunny in her lap and a juice box in hand. “You okay if Daddy goes away for the weekend?”
Y/N beamed. “Uncle Jim said we’re gonna build a pillow fort and make pancakes! And watch Moana two times!”
Luca gave a half-laugh, half-groan and looked over at Jim Street, who stood behind her, thumbs up and confident.
“I got this, man. It’s just one weekend. She’s the easiest roommate I’ve ever had.”
“Except she can school you at memory games,” Luca muttered, grabbing his bag. “Text me if anything happens. And keep an eye on her sugar levels. Her last low was only a week ago.”
“I got it,” Jim assured him, ruffling Y/N’s hair. “Have fun. You deserve it.”
Saturday Afternoon:
The day had gone off without a hitch. They had pancakes for breakfast, a movie marathon for lunch, and a fort so big it took over Jim’s entire living room.
But by late afternoon, things started to shift.
Jim noticed Y/N had gone quiet. Her giggles faded, and she was sitting in the middle of the pillow fort, blinking slowly and cradling her bunny.
“Hey, superstar,” Jim crouched beside her. “You okay?”
She nodded slowly, but her skin looked paler than usual. Her eyelids drooped.
Jim’s heart stuttered. He checked her Dexcom reader.
Low. Too low.
“Okay, we’re gonna fix this, kiddo. I got you.”
Panic started rising in his chest as he scooped her up, whispering, “It’s okay, I’ve got you,” and grabbed the emergency bag Luca had left. But even with the glucose tabs and juice, Jim couldn’t remember what came first, or how fast it would work.
His fingers fumbled over his phone. He called the one person who had kids and wouldn’t judge him for nearly crying:
“Deacon, I need you.”
Twenty Minutes Later:
Deacon showed up like a superhero—calm, steady, experienced, since this was his goddaughter. He rechecked Y/N’s sugar, got her sipping juice, and reassured Jim over and over.
“She’s going to be fine. You caught it early. You did good, Jim.”
Y/N started perking up about fifteen minutes later. Her cheeks had color again, her eyes were brighter.
“I feel floaty,” she whispered, holding onto Jim’s shirt.
“Yeah?” he laughed breathlessly, hugging her close. “You scared the crap outta me.”
“Uncle Jim said a bad word,” she tattled to Deacon in a sleepy whisper.
Deacon smirked. “Sounds like he owes you ice cream.”
Sunday Evening:
When Luca arrived at Jim’s door, Y/N ran into his arms before he even finished saying, “I’m back.”
“Hey, hey—there’s my girl!” Luca scooped her up, spinning her around. “How was your weekend?”
Y/N grinned. “I almost got floaty, but Uncle Jim fixed it with juice and Deacon came and I watched Moana three times and—and—”
Jim rubbed the back of his neck. “She had a low, but we handled it. Deacon helped.”
Luca’s expression darkened for a second, scanning her, but then he relaxed. She looked healthy, bright, and covered in paint.
“Thanks, man,” Luca said, pulling Jim in for a hug with his free arm. “You really came through.”
Y/N leaned her head on Luca’s shoulder, then suddenly perked up. “Daddy?”
“Yeah, baby?”
She pointed at Jim. “I’m gonna marry Uncle Jim when I grow up.”
Luca nearly choked on a laugh.
Jim blinked. “Oh?”
“He gave me juice and watched cartoons and didn’t tell me I couldn’t wear my cape to breakfast.”
Deacon, who had just walked in with a bag of groceries for breakfast, snorted. “Well, that’s about all it takes at that age.”
Jim looked stunned. “Guess I better start looking at wedding venues.”
Y/N grinned. “You can wear your SWAT stuff. I’ll wear my sparkly tutu.”
Luca just sighed, grinning at the chaos around him. “As long as I don’t have to give a toast.”
Jim looked over. “Oh no, you’re definitely giving a toast. Best man duties and all.”
Deacon added, “I’ll officiate.”
And just like that, the living room filled with laughter, sticky fingers, and the quiet comfort of people who loved each other—even in the scary moments.
Summary: It's October and Y/N L/N is back to SWAT HQ to bring some spook and fun to HQ, but she never thought she would include love.
By sunrise, the recruits already knew something had shifted at HQ. The lockers were draped with fake cobwebs. Plastic bats dangled from the ceiling vents. Someone had swapped out the coffee stirrers with tiny bone-shaped spoons.
It was chaos. It was ridiculous. And it had Y/N L/N written all over it.
“Alright, who let Spirit Halloween explode in here?” Rocker grumbled as he walked into the locker room, brushing a fake spider off his vest.
“Correction,” Chris said with a grin, “Y/N exploded in here.”
Hondo only shook his head, that deep chuckle rolling in his chest. “Knew she wouldn’t waste time.”
When the squad gathered in the main room, Y/N stood proudly next to a box overflowing with more decorations. “Ladies, gentlemen, and rookies… it’s October. Which means you either embrace the spooky spirit—or I haunt you until you do.”
Deacon sighed. “Here we go.” But not everyone was complaining.
“Wait, wait—don’t move those cobwebs yet!” Luca came jogging in, arms full of bright orange lights. “I brought backup.” He grinned at Y/N, cheeks flushed like he’d been sprinting. “Figured HQ needed a proper Halloween glow, right?”
Her eyes lit up, and for a moment, the usual teasing grin softened into something warmer. “Luca! You read my mind.”
“Yeah, well, I’m an expert at ambiance.” He winked, then added, “And you can’t start spooky season without lights. That’s, like, a crime.”
The recruits exchanged looks. Most of them had never seen Luca this enthusiastic outside of a takedown or a food truck stop. He and Y/N started stringing up the lights together, working side by side with easy laughter and little bumps of shoulders that didn’t go unnoticed.
Tan muttered to Street, “I think we just found the guy crazy enough to actually encourage her.”
“Or she found him,” Street shot back with a smirk.
By the time the lights were plugged in and the orange glow washed over HQ, Y/N leaned against the wall, proud of their handiwork. Luca stood next to her, brushing his hands together. “Not bad, huh?”
She glanced at him, her grin crooked. “Not bad at all. You just might survive this October after all.”
Their eyes lingered on each other a second too long, and Deacon caught it, shaking his head with a knowing sigh.
The recruits still whispered about the “ghost” of SWAT, but by day two, it was clear: Y/N wasn’t the only one haunting HQ.
Summary: Y/N is Canadian but lives in the USA instead, so when it turns July 1st, the S.W.A.T team surprises her by celebrating it for her. Luca also expresses his feelings.💘
Decided to make this and post it since I am Canadian haha and wanted to.... Don't worry, already working on a July 4th one!
You didn’t expect anyone in L.A. to care about July 1st.
In fact, you’d already made peace with the idea of spending Canada Day quietly—just you, your Spotify playlist of homegrown artists, and maybe some poorly made poutine in your apartment after work. Since moving to California and joining SWAT HQ as their civilian liaison, your national holidays had turned into background noise.
So when you walked into HQ that morning, wearing a subtle maple leaf pin on your jacket and carrying a travel mug with a red-and-white sticker, you weren’t expecting much. Just another day at the desk.
Until you saw it.
The entire common area of the bullpen was decked out in red and white. A Canadian flag hung proudly on the wall, the scent of sweet baked goods filled the air, and on the main table sat a display that made your heart stutter: butter tarts, maple cookies, mini flags in cupcakes—and was that… ketchup chips?
Before you could even react, the team jumped out from behind desks and furniture, yelling:
"HAPPY CANADA DAY, Y/N!"
You stared, wide-eyed. “You’ve gotta be kidding me…”
Hondo grinned, walking up with a mock salute. “Not a chance. We don’t let one of our own celebrate a holiday alone.”
Street emerged next, wearing the worst red plaid shirt you’d ever seen. “Tried to dress like a lumberjack. Nailed it, right?”
Chris held up a hand-painted sign that read "SWAT Loves the North!" and added with a grin, “Luca may have gotten carried away.”
Your eyes darted to Luca—standing at the edge of the group with his hands in his pockets, cheeks a little pink. He wasn’t in uniform. No, today he wore a Team Canada hockey jersey, jeans, and that nervous smile he only got around you.
“I may have helped,” he said. “Just… a bit.”
You blinked, touched beyond words. “You did all this?”
“Well,” Deacon interjected with a teasing glance at Luca, “he planned the whole thing. We just followed orders.”
Luca stepped forward, eyes soft. “I know you miss home. And I figured, if you couldn’t go to Canada… we’d bring Canada to you.”
You swallowed hard. “Luca…”
“There’s more,” he said, reaching behind the table and pulling out a small brown paper bag. Inside: a chocolate bar you hadn’t seen since leaving Toronto.
“Coffee Crisp?” You gasped, eyes wide.
“I had it shipped,” he said, a little sheepish. “One of those weird international snack sites. Nearly lost a bet to get it here on time.”
You laughed, eyes misting up. “You’re unbelievable.”
He gave a shy shrug. “Just wanted you to feel seen. And, uh… maybe impress you a little.”
The room suddenly grew quiet as Luca took a step closer. “Also, there’s one more thing.”
He reached into his jersey pocket and pulled out a tiny pin—a maple leaf on one side, and a tiny “D.L” carved on the other.
“For when you miss home… but want to remember someone here cares about you. A lot.”
You looked up at him, the air catching in your lungs. “Luca…”
Before you could finish, he grinned, closing the space between you. “So… would you maybe wanna go out sometime? Somewhere less covered in red and white?”
You bit your lip, trying not to cry again. “Yeah. I’d really like that.”
The team groaned playfully in the background.
“Finally!” Chris called out.
“About damn time,” Street muttered, reaching for another butter tart.
As you and Luca laughed, caught in your own little bubble beneath the Canadian flag, you realized this was one Canada Day you’d never forget.
Not because of the food.
Not even because of the flag.
But because someone—your someone—made you feel like home wasn’t so far away after all.
Summary: It's October and Y/N L/N is back to SWAT HQ to bring some spook and fun to HQ, but she never thought she would include love.
It started out as a normal morning. Coffee. Briefing. A few sarcastic remarks about Y/N’s “Halloween reign of terror.”
Everything seemed calm. Too calm.
“Anyone else feel like she’s planning something?” Tan muttered, sipping his coffee.
Street nodded. “Yeah. This is what happens before the jump scare.”
Deacon sighed. “You all need therapy.”
Hondo walked in just then, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “Before we start—whoever’s responsible for the pumpkin that screamed when I opened my office door… we need to talk.”
Every eye turned to Y/N.
She smiled innocently. “No idea what you’re talking about.”
Luca coughed. “You literally labeled it ‘Hondo’s Pumpkin.’”
Her grin widened. “Evidence can be faked.”
💀💀💀💀
Apparently, Y/N had decided that HQ “needed more atmosphere.”
So overnight, she had installed:
Motion-triggered bats in the hallways.
Fake spiderwebs over every desk.
And a life-size animatronic zombie SWAT officer by the locker room door.
She’d named it “Sergeant Z.”
“It’s a morale booster,” she said brightly.
Tan frowned. “It’s nightmare fuel.”
Deacon just crossed himself. “That thing moves, doesn’t it?”
Y/N smirked. “Only when you least expect it.”
💀💀💀💀
Everything was fine until midafternoon, when Hicks came down to check on the team.
Y/N was out running drills, Luca was in the garage, and the rest of the team was quietly filling out reports.
Then—
“RAAAAHHHHHH!”
A deafening mechanical roar shook the hallway.
Street leapt up so fast his chair went flying. “WHAT WAS THAT?!”
Chris’s coffee splattered across her laptop. “Oh my god—was that the zombie thing?”
Tan cautiously peeked out the door. The animatronic zombie was stumbling down the hall, smoke puffing from its joints, dragging a training baton like a club.
“It’s moving on its own!” he yelled.
“L/N!” Hondo bellowed. “What did you do?!”
From the garage, Y/N came running—covered in engine grease and confusion. “What—what’s happening?”
“Your dead SWAT officer just tried to arrest Hicks!” Deacon shouted.
Sure enough, Hicks appeared seconds later, glaring and holding up the zombie’s detached arm.
“L/N,” he said in that dangerously calm tone, “care to explain why your decoration assaulted me?”
Y/N blinked. “Oh no. I think the motion sensor shorted.”
Tan groaned. “Understatement of the year.”
💀💀💀💀
Luca stepped forward, suppressing a grin. “Okay, everyone relax. I can fix it.”
Y/N frowned. “Be careful, it’s wired into the main outlet—”
ZAP!
The zombie sparked violently, smoke rising from its chest.
Street screamed. “It’s ALIVE!”
Chris doubled over laughing. “I can’t—my stomach—”
Hondo pinched the bridge of his nose. “You two are banned from decorating duty for the rest of the year.”
Luca raised a finger. “Technically, it was just a wiring issue—”
Then the zombie’s head spun 180 degrees and let out one final mechanical shriek before collapsing with a hiss.
“…Okay,” he said. “Maybe a little more than wiring.”
Y/N buried her face in her hands, trying not to laugh. “I swear, it wasn’t supposed to do that.”
Once the chaos died down (and Sergeant Z was safely unplugged and “disarmed”), the team gathered in the briefing room, still laughing.
Street was reenacting Luca’s yelp from the electrocution moment.
Tan was giving mock interviews to “survivors of the zombie attack.”
Chris had already uploaded a slow-motion video of the whole thing to the team group chat labeled “The Day the Dead Fought Back.”
Even Hicks cracked a small, reluctant smile. “You’re lucky this team’s morale is higher than usual.”
Y/N raised her hand sheepishly. “So… no to the motion-activated werewolf I was planning?”
“Absolutely not,” Hondo said immediately.
Luca grinned. “What about a ghost?”
Hondo gave him a look. “You want paperwork duty?”
Luca raised both hands. “Nope. Just supporting the creative vision.”
Y/N elbowed him, smirking. “My kind of partner.”
He smiled back. “Someone’s gotta keep the monsters in line.”
💀💀💀💀
As everyone packed up to leave, Y/N was the last one in the locker room, unplugging a few stray decorations.
Luca came by with two mugs of cocoa. “Truce offering,” he said. “For the zombie apocalypse.”
She laughed, taking one. “Thanks, Frankenzap.”
He winced. “Too soon.”
They sat quietly for a moment, sipping cocoa amid the half-lit hallway — the only sound the faint hum of the vending machine.
“Y’know,” he said softly, “for all the chaos… everyone was laughing today. That’s a win.”
She smiled. “That’s the goal. Even the scariest things should make you smile a little.”
“Guess that’s what you do best.”
She looked up at him, eyes warm. “What, make things a little less scary?”
Summary: It's October and Y/N L/N is back to SWAT HQ to bring some spook and fun to HQ, but she never thought she would include love.
It started like any other morning in October — fog over the city, the faint smell of pumpkin spice in HQ’s break room, and everyone side-eyeing the vents to make sure Y/N hadn’t hidden another smoke machine.
“Okay,” Tan said as he poured his coffee. “What’s it gonna be today? Jump scares? Fake spiders in the lockers? Haunted bearcat?”
Deacon nodded. “My money’s on a fog bomb in Hondo’s office.”
Luca just smirked. “Nah, she’s too quiet this morning. That means she’s planning something big.”
They all turned as Y/N strolled in — bright smile, hair pulled back, carrying two enormous boxes and a tray of what smelled suspiciously like fresh-baked pie.
“Morning, team!” she chirped.
Street squinted. “What’s in the boxes?”
“Supplies,” she said vaguely.
Chris crossed her arms. “If a skeleton pops out, I’m tasing you.”
Y/N laughed. “No tricks today. Promise.”
Tan narrowed his eyes. “You promise promise?”
“Scout’s honour.”
🦃🦃🦃🦃
An hour later, when Hondo called the team into the briefing room, they weren’t prepared for what they saw.
The room had been transformed — not into a haunted house, but into something warm, glowing, and homey.
Golden tablecloths replaced the usual black ops layout.
Tiny paper maple leaves were scattered across the tables.
Candles flickered in jars, and a slow cooker filled the air with the scent of gravy and roasted herbs.
“What… what is this?” Deacon asked, blinking in disbelief.
Y/N stood at the front, smiling shyly. “Happy Thanksgiving.”
Hondo raised an eyebrow. “You’re about three weeks early, L/N.”
“Canadian Thanksgiving,” she said proudly. “Second Monday in October. Which is today.”
Tan blinked. “You’re Canadian?”
She smirked. “Born and raised in Vancouver. What, you think spooky season is an American invention?”
Luca chuckled. “So that’s the accent I hear when you’re tired.”
She rolled her eyes. “It’s not an accent, it’s personality.”
🦃🦃🦃🦃
Turns out, she’d been secretly prepping all weekend.
There was turkey — roasted perfectly and somehow transported from her apartment still warm.
Mashed potatoes, cranberry sauce, roasted squash, and even a stack of butter tarts.
Chris grinned. “And here I was expecting zombie cupcakes.”
“Next week,” Y/N said, winking.
Even Hicks stopped by, raising an eyebrow at the spread. “This is… not what I expected when I smelled turkey coming from the break room.”
“It’s Canadian Thanksgiving, sir,” Y/N said with mock formality. “You’re welcome to join. We have enough for everyone.”
Hicks gave a small, rare smile. “Carry on.”
🦃🦃🦃🦃
As the team sat together — plates full, laughter bouncing around the room — it felt different from their usual banter. Softer.
Y/N watched them all for a moment, a little misty-eyed as they dug into the food.
Luca noticed. “You okay?” he asked quietly, nudging her.
“Yeah,” she said softly. “Just nice seeing everyone together. I used to do this with my family every October — big meal, lots of stories, bad jokes. Haven’t had that in a while.”
He smiled. “Guess now you do.”
She looked at him, eyes warm. “Yeah. Guess I do.”
Then Street raised his glass of cider. “To Y/N — for reminding us that October isn’t just about scaring the crap out of each other.”
Everyone laughed and echoed the toast.
“Don’t get too comfortable,” Y/N warned. “Tomorrow’s back to normal. Full spooky mode.”
Tan groaned. “Knew it was too good to be true.”
Luca leaned closer, murmuring just loud enough for her to hear, “Don’t tell them this, but I kinda like this side of you.”
She smirked. “Soft spot for Canadians, huh?”
“Just one in particular,” he said with a grin.
🦃🦃🦃🦃
When everyone had gone, Y/N lingered behind to clean up — collecting plates and folding napkins. Luca stayed too, helping her stack containers and wrap leftovers.
She glanced at him. “You didn’t have to stay.”
He shrugged. “What kind of teammate would I be if I left the chef to clean up alone?”
“Smart,” she said.
“Heartless,” he countered.
They both laughed, standing in the soft golden glow of the leftover candles.
“Seriously, though,” Luca said after a moment. “This was… really nice. You’ve got a way of making this place feel like home.”
She smiled, a little bashful. “Guess that’s the Canadian hospitality.”
Summary: It's October and Y/N L/N is back to SWAT HQ to bring some spook and fun to HQ, but she never thought she would include love.
If there was one universal truth about SWAT, it was this:
When Y/N L/N got an idea in her head, there was no stopping it.
By 0900, HQ looked less like a tactical command center and more like the aftermath of a costume store explosion.
Plastic pumpkins lined the windowsills, fake cobwebs covered the stair railings, and a 6-foot skeleton sat proudly in Hicks’s chair — complete with aviator shades and a badge labeled “Commander Bones.”
Deacon stopped mid-stride, coffee in hand. “Please tell me Hicks hasn’t seen that yet.”
“Not yet,” Chris said, trying (and failing) to hide her grin.
Street laughed. “I give it ten minutes.”
“Three,” Tan corrected.
And then Y/N walked in — clipboard in hand, wearing a witch hat tilted just enough to be stylishly chaotic.
“Alright, team!” she announced, clapping her hands. “Costume assignments are out!”
Hondo looked up from his office doorway, raising an eyebrow. “Assignments?”
“Yup. I made a list. No one gets to back out this year.”
“This year?” Tan muttered. “You’ve been gone for three of them.”
“Exactly,” she said sweetly. “I’m making up for lost time.”
🍬🍬🍬🍬
Y/N started reading from her clipboard with military precision.
“Deacon — Captain America. Fitting, obviously.”
The room burst out laughing as Deacon sighed. “Yeah, that tracks.”
“Chris — Lara Croft.”
Chris smirked. “Perfect. Can I bring prop grenades?”
“No, but you will have fake dirt on your face. Authenticity, people!”
“Street,” Y/N continued, “you’re a ghostbuster.”
Street fist-pumped. “Yes! Proton pack and everything!”
“Tan — Iron Man. Because obviously, you’d be the guy who insists on building his own costume out of spare parts.”
Tan chuckled. “You know me too well.”
“Rocker’s got Batman,” Y/N went on. “Hondo’s Nick Fury.”
Hondo raised an eyebrow. “You really thought this through, huh?”
“Oh, I’ve been planning since July,” she said proudly.
Deacon muttered to Luca, “I’m starting to believe that.”
“And speaking of Luca…” Y/N turned toward him with a grin that made his stomach drop.
“Oh no,” he said instantly. “Whatever it is, I don’t like that face.”
“You, my dear Luca, are going to be… Frankenstein.”
The room erupted.
Tan nearly dropped his coffee. “That’s perfect!”
Street wiped a tear from his eye. “Big, loud, misunderstood—”
“—and surprisingly gentle!” Chris added.
Y/N patted Luca’s arm. “See? You’ll be adorable.”
He groaned. “You’re enjoying this way too much.”
“You have no idea,” she said, smirking.
🍬🍬🍬🍬
By noon, the team was waist-deep in costume prep. Tan was gluing gold paint to armor pieces, Chris was practicing Lara Croft poses, and Street kept pretending his proton pack actually worked.
Y/N, meanwhile, was suspiciously quiet — which everyone knew was never a good sign.
“Hey, Ghost,” Luca called, squinting at her from across the room. “What are you up to?”
“Nothing,” she said innocently.
“Uh-huh.”
“Seriously, nothing!”
Two minutes later, the lights flickered — and the intercom suddenly blared an eerie cackle.
“WELCOME… TO THE REAL SWAT HALLOWEEN EXPERIENCE!”
The sound of screams and ghostly whispers filled the building.
Street jumped so hard he dropped his proton pack. “What the—!”
Chris laughed. “She wired the PA system again!”
Deacon groaned. “L/N, turn it off before Hicks—”
Too late.
From the hallway came the unmistakable sound of Hicks’s boots approaching — and the sight of “Commander Bones” still sitting in his office chair.
The door creaked open.
There was a pause.
Then Hicks’s voice, calm but deadly: “Why is there a skeleton wearing my sunglasses?”
The entire team froze.
Y/N slowly raised her hand. “...Team morale?”
Hicks pinched the bridge of his nose. “You’ve been back ten days. TEN.”
“But everyone’s smiling!” she argued.
Hondo stepped in, barely hiding a laugh. “She’s right, sir. It’s the happiest I’ve seen the squad all week.”
Hicks sighed. “Fine. But if that skeleton’s still in my chair tomorrow, it’s going on her record.”
“Yes, sir,” Y/N said, grinning.
As soon as he walked away, Luca muttered, “You’re out of your mind.”
“Correction,” she said, tipping her witch hat. “I’m in the spirit.”
🍬🍬🍬🍬
By the end of the day, the team’s laughter still echoed through HQ. Costumes were half-assembled, candy wrappers covered the table, and fake cobwebs hung from the ceiling vents like trophies of chaos.
Y/N sat on the hood of the BearCat, sipping hot chocolate from a thermos. Luca joined her, holding two mugs.
“You know,” he said, “for a second there, I thought Hicks was actually gonna fire you.”
She smirked. “He loves me. Deep down. Really, really deep down.”
Luca chuckled. “You sure have a way of keeping things interesting.”
“Gotta keep the ghosts happy,” she said, taking a sip. “And by ghosts, I mean me.”
He grinned. “You do that pretty well.”
For a second, the noise of HQ faded — just the two of them, sitting under dim orange lights, surrounded by laughter and leftover decorations.
“Next week,” Y/N said suddenly, “we’re doing the full costume reveal. Group photos. Candy competition. Maybe a fog machine finale.”
